


bliss within madness

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Series: s7 pregnant felicity fics [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Brioche Buns, Brunch, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, I promise, Mild Angst, Oliver does NOT leave in this fic, Post 7x15, Pregnancy, Pregnant Felicity Smoak, Talking to the baby bump, baby bump, mentions of shower sex, this is mostly just adorable fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: “Hey, Mia. It’s your dad,” he whispered. Pausing, he added, “Mia or Lucas. We don’t know exactly who you are yet. But I promise you, your mom and I are gonna love you to the stars and back no matter who you turn out to be. I’m gonna call you Mia for now, though.” He kissed Felicity’s stomach softly, humming under his breath at the heat coming from her skin.





	bliss within madness

**Author's Note:**

> i needed fluff ok

Oliver had developed a habit over the years he was in a relationship with Felicity where he liked to lie in bed and watch her if he woke up before her in the mornings. It sounded pretty creepy when put like that - but when the bed was warm, they were both naked and Felicity was resting on top of his chest, it made sense for Oliver to wait until she finally stirred. Time seemed irrelevant when he was concentrating on his beautiful wife; he focused on listening to her soft breathing, running his hands through her loose blonde hair and dancing his fingertips up and down her bare spine.

These days, Oliver liked to concentrate on different things. At twelve weeks pregnant, Felicity had developed a slight baby bump. It wasn’t noticeable to anybody who didn’t know she was carrying a baby, and easily covered up by a sweater or a jacket. She and Oliver had been cautiously monitoring the physical changes in her body since finding out about the pregnancy, however, as they wanted to make sure that Felicity’s micro-implant wasn’t affected.

As soon as the baby bump had appeared, Oliver had been fascinated. He hadn’t been watching for it as carefully and excitedly as Felicity, but as soon as it had become obvious to him, he couldn’t manage a couple of hours without kneeling down and pressing his hands over Felicity’s smooth stomach, which was now firm to the touch. If he rested his ear against her belly, he liked to think that he could hear the faint sounds of their baby moving within his wife’s womb, although it was more likely the noises were coming from Felicity, as she squirmed and laughed at his fussing over her.

On the day marking the end of the first trimester and passage into the second, Oliver woke up with a quiet yelp of pain when his wife, who he’d now taken to spooning while she slept, twisted around in his arms to accidentally knee him in the balls. His heart hammering in his chest, the archer slowly scooted away, wincing. Felicity slept on peacefully, unaware of the discomfort she’d just inflicted on her husband, and snuffled into her pillow adorably.

Sighing, Oliver checked the time, wondering if there was any point trying to get back to sleep. Bands of dappled sunlight were already streaming in from through the windows and bulletproof curtains, causing Felicity’s blonde hair to shimmer. It was six in the morning - three hours too early to be waking his wife up, considering it was a Saturday. Felicity had been feeling particularly fatigued recently and needed all the sleep she could get, especially since her wake-up calls were often ruined by bouts of severe morning sickness.

The archer didn’t want to leave the bed lest Felicity suddenly wake up and find herself alone, so he decided to occupy himself. Crawling lower down on the bed, he rested on his arm a food away from his wife’s baby bump, gently caressing the swell with the pad of his thumb.

“Hey, Mia. It’s your dad,” he whispered. Pausing, he added, “Mia or Lucas. We don’t know exactly who you are yet. But I promise you, your mom and I are gonna love you to the stars and back no matter who you turn out to be. I’m gonna call you Mia for now, though.” He kissed Felicity’s stomach softly, humming under his breath at the heat coming from her skin. “Your mommy possesses a very sharp kneecap that might have just reduced the chances of you getting a younger sibling. She also has the smartest and greatest mind of this century. She is honestly the best human being I know and she’s the light of my life. You’re going to be so lucky to be raised by her.”

Felicity gave a little huff, shifting in her slumber. Oliver observed her for any signs of wakefulness as her brow furrowed ever so slightly, but smiled when she relaxed.

“Mia, should I tell you the story of how your mommy and I first met?” he murmured. “Or should I tell you the story of the first time she saved my life. Or maybe I should tell you about the moment I realized that I was in love with her.”

Felicity whined. Her eyelids fluttered upon, peering down at Oliver from above. Despite her tiredness, her eyes were shining with a fondness and intimacy that Oliver had become all too familiar with. “It’s too early for stories,” she muttered.

“Sorry.” He pushed himself up the bed so he could kiss her good morning tenderly. Felicity responded keenly, tugging Oliver’s body against her. He blinked in surprise when she pushed him back with one hand and vaulted up on top of him, sitting on his waist. It was difficult to keep his gaze fixed on her face when his wife was very naked and very hot, and therefore very, very distracting. “I was trying not to wake you up,” he said, clearing his throat.

“You didn’t,” she reassured him, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. “Lucas sitting on my bladder did.” Much to his disappointment, Felicity slid off of him, hopping off the bed. He rolled over to his side, keeping their bedsheets covering himself as he watched her put her glasses on and stand slowly to fight back any dizziness. “Pass me one of John’s ginger candy chews? I want to try and stave off the morning sickness now. Oh, and my prenatal vitamin for the day.” He passed a chew over from their jar on the bedside table and one of the pills as well. Popping them both into her mouth, Felicity headed to the bathroom. “I’ll be back in ten seconds.”

Oliver quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll be counting.”

It took longer than ten seconds, maybe double that time, and Oliver made sure Felicity knew that when she returned back to bed by punishing her by tickling. Hearing her laugh and scream at him to stop with happy tears in her eyes filled him with joy. Once the two of them had calmed down, Felicity leaned against the bed’s backboard so that Oliver could rest his head in her lap, directly on top of the baby bump.

“Can you feel her yet?” he asked.

“I get the occasional flutters,” she replied, stroking over his head. “We have a very active, rambunctious baby. He’s probably parkour-ing in there, kicking and punching the hell out of my uterus.” With a deadly calm and solemn expression on her face, Felicity told him, “I want mint chip.”

“It’s not even seven in the morning.”

“First of all, I’m pregnant, I’m allowed whatever I want for breakfast,” she raised a finger. “Second, ice cream is _not_ what I’m referring to.”

“We can’t use _mint chip_ as our code word for sex,” Oliver shook his head. “And unfortunately, you can’t have ice cream for breakfast today. John’s coming around later this morning for an early brunch. Which also means that sex is off the table, because I know once we get going, we’re not going to be able to stop until noon. These pregnancy hormones are making you insatiable.”

Felicity pouted at him. She looked genuinely disappointed. “Bad husband.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He arched up to kiss her again. “I promise.”

“You better.”

“I can cheer you up right now.” He reached over the side of the bed, pulling out one of the storage boxes underneath that he was currently using to hide a snack pile. Midnight cravings were a super real and super serious thing. Handing over the foil wrapped treat, he told her, “I made more of those brownie breakfast bars that you love. That will keep your energy up until brunch.”

“Thank god,” she groaned, tearing the foil, crushing it into a ball and chucking it towards the trash can. It missed, and Oliver laughed in amusement. Felicity began wolfing the breakfast bar down. She finished it in seconds. Glancing at him hopefully, she gave him fearsome puppy dog eyes until Oliver gave it and fetched her another one. “Thank you, honey.”

“I’ve got to go and shower and then start getting the food ready,” he sighed. “I need to begin baking early if you want those chocolate cinnamon brioche buns and raspberry ginger muffins.”

“Oh, I do,” she nodded. “But you’re only allowed to shower if I can join you.”

“No funny business.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Felicity responded, her eyes wide. “I’m completely innocent.”

Funny business did occur in the shower, but luckily Oliver was able to sate his horny pregnant wife’s appetite relatively quickly by spending most of it on his knees. He did, however, have to remain behind in the shower for an extra five minutes with the water turned to freezing cold. As long as Felicity was happy, that was all that mattered.

Felicity was at that stage in pregnancy where she didn’t honestly care what she wore when they were at home, even when they were having guests. Oliver dressed casually in jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater, while Felicity simply wore some shorts and one of the archer’s Henleys. She sat up on the kitchen counter, sipping at her one allotted cup of coffee as Oliver rushed around the kitchen, preparing various doughs, cutting fruit and squeezing fresh juices for alcohol-free mimosas.

“John’s asking to come early, if that’s okay,” Felicity told him, reading out a text that pinged from the archer’s cell phone. “What should I reply with?”

“Tell them he’s free to come from nine thirty onwards,” he responded. “And ask him how he wants his eggs.” He looked up at her. “How do you want yours?”

She shot him a wicked smile. “Hard-boiled.”

“No chocolate cinnamon brioche buns for you.”

“Don’t be cruel to the woman carrying your child.”

“Don’t be cruel to the man who knocked you up,” he countered with a grin.

Felicity opened her mouth, eyes sparkling at the challenge, but then promptly jumped down from the counter and sprinted for the nearest bathroom. Swearing, Oliver shed his cooking apron and hurried after her, halting only to grab a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge and couple more of John’s ginger chews from their stash on the kitchen table.

His wife was already throwing up by the time he reached her, and he quickly twisted her hair into a ponytail, using a hairtie from the counter to tie it back. Then he knelt and rubbed her back soothingly until she’d finished vomiting, trying to comfort her as much as he possibly could. In these situations, Oliver felt helpless. There wasn’t much he could do to fight Felicity’s morning sickness.

“Thanks,” Felicity mumbled, taking the offered Gatorade and ginger chews. “Really thought I’d got off lucky this morning.”

“It’s alright,” he said softly. “Do you want me to grab some of those antiemetic pills Dr Schwartz prescribed for you?”

“No, they make me get headaches. I’ll be fine. Just help me to the couch. I’ll lie down until John gets here.” As Oliver helped her stand and walk steadily back to the living room, she asked him hopefully, “Can I please have my brioche buns?”

“You’re the only one out of the three of us who likes them, Felicity. I make them especially for you. Of course you can have them.”

Once his wife was settled supine on the couch with Gatorade, plenty of ginger chews and some water if she wanted it as well, Oliver washed up and then returned to his cooking. He made sure that Felicity had her tablet to keep her busy before leaving her to rest.

When John arrived, it was with another jar of ginger candy chews, a small bottle of peppermint oil and a box of JJ’s old baby stuff. He hadn’t seen Felicity’s baby belly on full display before, and sat down with her to talk about it while Oliver rapidly cooked all of their eggs; an omelet for him, poached for John and scrambled for Felicity, which wasn’t her favorite type of eggs, but she wasn’t allowed to have her normal over-easy ones since they were partially raw.

“You’re glowing, Felicity,” John said, as they sat down at the table together to eat. “You truly look wonderful.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d seen me in the bathroom barely twenty minutes ago,” Felicity snorted. She was piling brioche buns on her plate, only serving herself some fruit when Oliver shot her a pointed look. “The morning sickness is driving me crazy. The ginger chews are the only thing that helps, so thank you so much for them.”

“You’re welcome,” John smiled. “Lyla had the same issue with morning sickness. Peppermint oil helped with the nausea, so I brought some over.”

“You’re a godsend.”

“Thank you for JJ’s old stuff by the way,” Oliver said. “We’ve just hit second trimester so we were thinking of needing to start shopping.”

“It’s just a couple of old blankets, bibs, and burping cloths.”

“It’s something, which is better than what we’ve got at the moment,” Felicity said, standing and brushing herself down. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, Lucas is making his presence known again by squishing my bladder. I’ll be back momentarily.”

John turned to Oliver eagerly once she’d departed the room. “‘Lucas’?”

“We don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy yet,” Oliver shook his head, knowing what his friend was going to ask. “But Felicity thinks it’s a boy, and I think it’s a girl.”

John laughed. “Mother’s intuition, Oliver. And when has Felicity ever been wrong?”

“I still think it’s a girl.”

“I hope you’re prepared to be wrong.”

“It’s a fifty-fifty chance of being right. My odds are high,” the archer pointed out. “If it’s a boy, he’s going to be called Lucas Thomas. A girl will be called Mia Emily. Both with the surname Smoak-Queen.”

“Just entering second trimester and you’ve already got the baby names picked out?” John stared at him, incredulous. “Did you even fight over them?”

“Not really. Decided on first names within ten minutes, debated a bit over the middle names; I think we had the full names picked out within three days.”

“Damn, man.”

“We’re too happy to even think about fighting,” Oliver shrugged. “Except that one time I told Felicity she shouldn’t wear heels anymore. That didn’t go over well. But she eventually agreed, after I pointed out that she gets dizzy on staircases now and we don’t want Mia or her getting hurt if she trips and falls.”

“There has been _one_ other thing we’ve argued about,” Felicity said, announcing her re-entry into the room. She strode up behind Oliver, hugging him from behind before taking her seat again. “If we’re telling the rest of the team.”

“You mean ‘when’ you’re telling the rest of the team,” John corrected.

Oliver and Felicity exchanged a glance. “No, we mean ‘if’,” Oliver admitted.

John looked alarmed. “You can’t seriously be thinking about trying to keep this a secret. It’s a baby. A whole ass human being. You can’t just hide him or her away.”

“Can’t we?” Felicity put her head in her heads with a sigh. “We’ve been discussing it… and we think we should move out of the city just before it becomes glaringly obvious that I’m pregnant. We can assume new identities and live safe and happy lives. We’ll obviously be taking William with us - if his grandparents will allow it, and he wants to come - so we can just try and be a normal family, raising this baby together. It’s why we’ve been so deadset on making sure the city is saved. So that everything doesn’t fall into carnage the moment we move out.”

“You’re just going to leave?” John exclaimed, his tone turning from agitated to angry and upset. “What about Dinah and Rene? You’re really not going to tell them?”

“We don’t think so, no.”

“Do you not trust them?”

A spark of fury appeared in Felicity’s eyes. “If this were a question of _trust_ -”

“We shouldn’t talk about this now,” Oliver said, casting a nervous look Felicity’s way when she clenched her fists in the tablecloth at his interruption.

“I think we should,” John said, rising to his feet.

“John, if you don’t sit down in three seconds, I am going to throw up all over your shoes and then text Lyla that you’re being mean to me,” Felicity said, her voice flat. “Now, you and Oliver are going to change the subject of conversation while I go and refill my cup with decaf coffee so that when I come back, my urge to punch somebody will have faded.”

Oliver swallowed and stayed silent as his wife stood and crossed the room to the kitchen, where she started very slowly brewing herself some decaf coffee.

“She is even scarier when pregnant,” John whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“Do _not_ piss her off,” Oliver warned him quietly. “The ‘telling the rest of the team’ thing has been the one and only thing we have not been able to agree on over the past week, and trust me, when she threatens to throw up over your shoes, she means it.” Clearing his throat and raising his voice, Oliver asked so that Felicity could hear, “So how is JJ doing in school?”

The rest of the brunch passed by without any more awkward moments or rising tension, to Oliver’s relief. They mostly steered away from the topic of the pregnancy and baby, mostly due to the fact that they knew that John would bring up telling the team again if given opportunity. He really did not understand how very real the vomiting threat was when it came to Felicity; her morning sickness, which was incorrectly labeled ‘morning’, emerged sporadically throughout the day. She could pretty much vomit on command at this point, as she was constantly nauseous.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Felicity said stiffly, once John had left their apartment and the two of them were left alone. Oliver hadn’t even said anything. “Please don’t make me talk about it.”

“Actually, I was going to offer you a back rub.”

She relaxed instantly. “You’re a good husband.”

“Just a few hours ago, you were calling me a bad one.”

“Only because you denied me sex, but then you gave me two orgasms in the shower. And then you made chocolate cinnamon brioche buns for me.”

“You ate five of them.”

“Yes? And?”

“And I will make you more if you would like me to,” he answered simply.

“ _Good_ husband.” She snuggled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her baby bump cradled between their bodies, and Oliver dropped his own hands down to caress it through the fabric of his Henley that she was wearing. “I love you, you know that?”

“I do. I love you too.”

“You’re going to make a great father,” she said. “Even though you already are, with William.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree with that one.”

“You were saying earlier that the baby will be lucky to have me as a mom… well, Lucas is going to be lucky to have you as his dad.” There were tears in her eyes now. She sniffled, freeing one of her hands from behind his back to wipe at her face.

“Pregnancy hormones?” he asked, smiling.

“Shut up,” she swatted his chest, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his sternum. “You’re not allowed to make fun of me when I’m pregnant.”

“I’m not. You’re just incredibly cute. C’mon, let’s go back to bed so I can give you that back rub. You’ve been hunched over all morning, it’s obviously hurting you.”

“My spine is made from a mixture of Jello and styrofoam,” she complained. “It’s all crackly and wobbly and it aches. And before you start worrying, no, it’s not anything to do with the micro-implant. I wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all if it was damaged. The chip is fine, I’ve checked. It’s just stress and the baby’s weight pulling on it.”

“Do you want me to tell the baby off for that?” Oliver crouched down, gently prodding the sides of Felicity’s baby belly with his fingertips and saying in a mock-scolding voice, “Stop turning your mother’s vertebrae into a gelatinous, polystyrene mess, Mia.”

Felicity cupped his face. “You’re such a sweet, loveable dork.”

“I know.” He straightened up to drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. “And you’re the remarkable, beautiful wife of this dork. And together, we are the parents of a genius, rebellious but wonderful son, and a magnificent, bound to be brilliant, yet to be born baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: lexiblackbriar  
> tumblr: alexiablackbriar13


End file.
